


The Noble Steed and Her Monkey

by clotpolesonly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, splashing in puddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 19:15:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8857570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clotpolesonly/pseuds/clotpolesonly
Summary: Stiles doesn't want to get his shoes wet. Good thing he and his girlfriend don't conform to antiquated gender roles and Allison is more than willing to be a gentlewoman and carry him across the puddles.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a cute little scene cuz I saw a similar thing on facebook this morning and couldn't stop thinking about Stallison being silly and adorable together. ^_^

The honk of a horn outside his window made Stiles jump and also bash his knee into the underside of his desk, not that he was gonna admit to that. A quick glance at the clock showed that he was _late_ and also an _idiot_ who didn’t know how to budget his time properly—shocking, truly.

It took him forty-five seconds to throw on real clothes and drag a comb haphazardly through his hair, and then he was hopping down the stairs on one foot while pulling a shoe onto the other. By some miracle, both shoes were on and tied by the time he reached the front door and threw it open to find Allison already there with hand raised to knock.

“Hey, Alli-cat!” he said, super casual and not at all like he’d forgotten.

Allison looked him up and down, bit her lip to hide a smile, and said, “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“What?” Stiles yelped, thoroughly offended at the assumption. “No, I did not forget! There is a difference between forgetting a date and forgetting what time it is. I may have not noticed exactly how long my wikipedia spiral had gone on, but I did _not_ forget the date!”

“Well, good,” Allison said. “Because we’re gonna be late. Scott and Isaac are already at the diner and you know Isaac’s gonna eat all your curly fries if they get there before you do.”

“That traitor,” he grumbled, fumbling with his keys to lock the door behind him. “Wolfboy doesn’t even _like_ curly fries. He just eats them to spite me.”

“Then hurry up, before he gets the chance!”

Allison took him by the wrist before he was even finished stowing his keys in his pocket and was already dragging him off the porch toward her car. But at the first sound of splashing, Stiles recoiled in horror.

“Wait, is it _raining?_ ”

Allison looked at him like he was a moron. Not for the first time, but with an extra dash of judgment in there for spice.

“Seriously?” She rolled her eyes. “Apparently the time isn’t the only thing you didn’t notice. Yes, and no, Stiles. It is not raining at this exact moment but it was raining for several hours this morning, which you would have known if you weren’t eyeball-deep in the internet at the time and therefore completely oblivious to everything else.”

“The internet is more interesting,” Stiles protested weakly. Then he was pulling out his keys again.

“What are you doing?” Allison asked in exasperation. “We’re already late! You will get no curly fries at all!”

“These are my new shoes, Alli! I just got them, and they are definitely not water resistant. I gotta go get different ones if we’re gonna be splashing through puddles.”

Allison let out a long groan, head thrown back so that her curls bounced against her shoulder blades. Then she turned around, backing up to the edge of the steps and flapping her hands behind her to wave him closer.

“Get on, you big baby.”

Stiles stared at her, keys dangling uselessly.

“Uh...pardon?”

Allison flapped her hands again, more insistently.

“If you’re really that concerned about your shoes, then I will carry you to the car,” she said. “I’ll even carry you into the diner if it gets us there in time to actually eat our food before Scott and Isaac do it for us.”

“Wha— You can’t carry me!”

Allison turned to raise an eyebrow at him, hands on her hips.

“I most certainly can,” she said. “Why couldn’t I?”

“I’m bigger than you!” Stiles argued. “I don’t wanna break my girlfriend!”

“Oh please,” Allison said, rolling her eyes. “We weigh almost exactly the same, Stiles, and _I_ actually work out. I guarantee I can take you. And I don’t have to worry about wet shoes because, unlike you, I dress for the weather.”

She gestured to her feet, which were encased in colorful rubber rain boots, perfect for splashing through puddles like the ones that had overtaken the Stilinski driveway.

Stiles chewed on his lip, looking between her boots and his own, precious, mostly canvas shoes and considering the benefits of throwing away his pride for their sake. His stomach growled, vehemently protesting its current lack of curly fries.

“You’re sure I won’t break you?” he asked.

Allison turned around once more, holding her hands out expectantly. With a heavy sigh, Stiles pocketed his keys and put both hands on his girlfriend’s shoulders. At her urging, he jumped up and wrapped his legs around her slim waist. She caught him with an overly exaggerated grunt of effort, hooking her elbows under his calves and jostling him upward to a more stable position.

“See?” she said, smug as anything. “I’ve got you.”

“Go forth, noble steed!” Stiles commanded, propping his chin on top of her knit-beanie-covered head. He got a pinch to the thigh for his trouble, but she was laughing so it was totally worth it.

The first lurch forward almost sent them both sprawling, but Stiles held on tight as Allison course-corrected and got them moving in the right direction. Every step sent ripples through the puddles, splashes of water licking up the sides of Allison’s boots but never quite reaching high enough to flood them, and Stiles wiggled his dry feet where they were crossed across her stomach. She smacked them with a snort and her next step was more of a _jump_ that had Stiles wobbling precariously and shouting with laughter.

They made it to the car in one piece and mostly dry. Allison turned sideways and dumped Stiles onto the hood where he lay groaning.

“How am I supposed to get in the car from here?” he asked indignantly, rubbing at the elbow that had taken most of the impact.

“Climb, babe,” she called as she skipped around the other side of the car toward the driver’s side. “I had to be a pack mule, so now you get to be a monkey.”

It took a lot of maneuvering for Stiles to get the passenger door open from where he was, and even more to clamber over top of it and into the actual car without falling on his ass into three inches of water, but he managed it. When he finally settled into his seat, completely dry and only panting from exertion a little bit, he sent Allison what he was sure must have been the smuggest of smirks to ever smirk, but she just shook her head.

“You’re such a loser,” she said with a smile.

“Ah, but that’s why you love me,” Stiles shot back.

“I don’t know if _that’s_ the main reason,” she said, firing up the car. “But you’re certainly never boring.”

“Aw, sweetie, I think you’re not boring, too.”

Stiles made annoying kissy noises until Allison gave in, leaning across the console to give him a real kiss even though they were both smiling too much for it to be a very good one.

Allison did piggyback Stiles into the diner while Scott and Isaac roared with laughter from the doorway. Well, _almost_ into the diner. But they didn’t wipe out until they’d reached the dryness of the diner’s overhang, so Stiles considered it a success anyway.


End file.
